As has been the case a little too frequently in the past, I am once again crashing at my sister's while Mom is hospitalized. Let's just say that the first chemo drug had serious consequences and Mom is yet again a guest of the Big City hospital.
Aside from having had to go buy clothes (I packed for one day, ha, ha, and this is now Day Five) I always feel underfoot. It's a two bedroom, one bath house, so it takes coordination when I'm here. My sister's asleep, so I am washing their whites. I used one of the towels, so I feel obligated to pitch in.
Their Golden Retriever is napping at my feet-he keeps us sane when this stuff goes down. I unwisely bought some black clothes, on which his red-gold fur shows up nicely. I love the dog, and I did help pick him out as a puppy.
The other habit I got into a few years ago was bringing in groceries. Fast food is bad for you, of course, plus it gets tired after a while. One of the previous hospitals had mini-fridges in the room, where I would store my lunch for a couple of days in advance. This one doesn't- so I eat breakfast and wait until I get back to the house to have supper.
So here I sit, waiting for a clean towel, planning My Day at the Hospital with Mom. This is life as I know it for the next while.